


when our beginnings meet our ends

by coykoi, Jsscshvlr



Series: Two is Better than One [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, As it should be, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Neighbors AU, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Only One Bed, The snap happens and we hate it hereee, childhood best friends to ex bffs to lovers, idiots the both of them, no deaths (today), this is over a month early t, we are not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29311404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coykoi/pseuds/coykoi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsscshvlr/pseuds/Jsscshvlr
Summary: “I just...I don’t know. It would make me feel better, I think...knowing he’s not out there, doing all of this alone.”“You and me both, Leeds.” Michelle gnaws the inside of her cheek, knowing that every time their friend goes out like this, there’s a pit of worry that grows in her stomach. “But he’s not doing this alone. Granted, we’re in the safety of his bedroom, but we’re still here...watching out for him.”“Hell yeah, we are. You hear that, Peter?”“I hear that loud and clear. You know I love you guys.”“You should,” she sniffs, unable to help the smile creeping onto her face, the warmth spreading across her cheeks.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & May Parker (Spider-Man), Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Two is Better than One [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192616
Comments: 33
Kudos: 74





	when our beginnings meet our ends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tvfanatic97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvfanatic97/gifts).



> This is meant to be for your birthday T!! Don’t look at us, it’s our brand to post (a month) early! We hope you have a great day! (and a great birthday when it actually comes) 
> 
> jess and jill <3

“You know, if you lean any further out that window, you’re going to fall splat on the ground,” Michelle remarks with a small smirk on her face, dropping her bag on the floor right next to the door and hopes no one will trip on it. She’s clearly startled him if his loud curse and knee clutching is any indication after having just banged it against the windowsill. “What were you even doing?”

“I was trying—” He turns around, facing her with a scowl, and she holds her hands up innocently. His expression softens. “To see if you were home. You never responded to my text, and I wasn’t sure if you were still coming over.” Her chest feels like there are thousands of little sparklers going off, even if she won’t let it show on her face.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Michelle gives him a wry smile before making room to sit cross-legged on the floor, leaning against his bed despite feeling slightly out of place in his room nowadays. She doesn’t mention it, pulling out her Lit homework instead and opening to the bookmarked page. “Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easily—even if you were being an  _ ass _ today, and for what?”

“I was  _ not _ . You—you were just being—” He snaps his mouth shut when she levels him with her stare, and he exhales slowly, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re right. I was being an ass today, but I didn’t mean it. I’m just frustrated...with schoolwork. I’m almost failing two of my classes, and—”

“And your scholarship to Midtown will be revoked if you fail the semester,” she finishes, having heard this story before, and he nods miserably.

“But I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’m sorry,” he repeats softly.

“Okay.” She doesn’t look up from the book, but she senses him sitting down beside her, their shoulders brushing. “I mean, I don’t know what you expect, Peter. I’m here because I don’t want to see you fail, but you’re the one skipping classes, and when you do show up, you fall asleep.”

“You know why—”

“I do know why. That doesn’t mean I’m going to be at your beck and call any time you’re flunking a class,” Michelle says, inhaling sharply. Her gaze inadvertently falls on the open closet, his newly minted suit hanging in the far back, away from prying eyes. “I don’t want to see you fail, but as someone who’s known you for, what, five years now? I don’t want to see this either.”

“I’m sorry, MJ. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want it to seem like I’m taking you for granted. I promise...as soon as I get used to doing this more often…” He presses his lips together, looking at her when she’s not looking at him. “I’ll figure it out.”

Michelle slowly nods, finally meeting his eyes, and she smiles a bit. “I know you will. I’ll always be here, but as your friend, not your tutor.”

It’s been five months now since their trip to Oscorp, the three of them—her, Peter, and Ned—making the mistake of going in the first place. She wasn’t planning on attending at all, but they’d said it would be fun, and she dumbly believed them. Turns out, any time you turn your back, one of your friends will sneak off into a restricted room and get themself into trouble, nearly dying in the process when some radioactive spider bites them.

Peter called her around two a.m. a few days later on a school night, and he wouldn’t stop freaking out about being stuck to his bed. She assumed he was still delirious from the high-grade fever he’d been suffering from earlier, so she simply hung up on him. No, she’s not proud of it but in her defence she had school the next day and she was grouchy anyway because she spent her entire evening attempting to make Peter soup. It did not go well.

He filled her in later on everything that was happening to him, and she didn’t want to believe it. She was probably in denial for a good two weeks, and somewhere in between, there was a shooting.

They attended the funeral of his uncle, and later that night, he crawled in through her window and she held him as he cried. She did as well, knowing Ben as well as her own family.

Michelle spent more and more time with May as weeks passed, Aunt Anna inviting her over for lunches and coffee, and the three of them could talk for hours. But while she got closer to Peter’s aunt, he seemed to be drifting further away. For as much as she called him, he never picked up anymore.

So, she went over one day, and she waited.

It’s funny when she thinks back on it now, the way she hadn’t known what to expect, but him crawling through the window in this homemade red and blue suit of scraps was not it.

He sat down with her that night and told her that he wouldn’t let more innocent people get hurt if he could help it—that if he was granted powers like the ones he had, what kind of person would he be if he didn’t use them for good?

It was something his uncle said once—with great power comes great responsibility. Michelle just never thought it would be taken so literally, and the idea of him going out there in that way scared her a little bit. But she didn’t think she’d be able to sit back and not support him in his endeavours, so she told him his suit looked like shit and helped sew him a new one.

The one hanging in his closet now.

He goes by Spider-Man, and the irony is funny to her because he’s fucking terrified of spiders, but he must think everyone else must be as well, so that’s his logic. 

All he needs now is a better schedule because he’s starting to put Spider-Man first and everything else second, which is doing wonders for the crime level in Queens but not so much for his grades. She had agreed to help tutor him—she just didn’t expect one session to turn into two and two into three.

“I’ll get better at this,” he tells her quietly, leaning into her as she guides him through the analysis of the Odyssey. “Not just Lit, but...everything else, too. But I really do appreciate this and you, MJ. I don’t know what I’d do…”

“Without me?” She flashes him a small smirk. “Fail, most likely. Trust me, Peter. I’m here because I want to help you.”

Peter stares at her for a lingering moment, even when she’s pointing at the page, and she thinks he’s ignoring what she’s saying, which would make the session pointless. But then he says, “Thank you.”

She could say ‘you’re welcome’, but the look in his eyes is making her face hot and her head swim. It’s ridiculous that she’s feeling this way now, and she feels it for the rest of their study session—at least until they come to a stop and Peter pulls away, standing up and stretching.

“I should go,” she says, pushing a hand through her hair and starting to gather her books.

“You live right next door, Em. You could stay a little longer...we could have a movie night? Like we used to,” Peter offers hopefully, and she recounts every Friday evening during their freshman year when the two of them and Ned had spent hours upon hours binging movies in his bedroom just because they could. Sophomore year is different, but she wants that feeling of easiness back.

“Fine. As long as we don’t watch Aliens.”

“I’ll let you choose.” He smiles at her, soft and familiar, making her stomach do somersaults. “I can hear May coming up to bed now, so I’ll let her know—”

“You’ll let me know what?” May peeks her head inside, eyes giving off the kind of warmth that Michelle loves to wrap herself up in. “If you’re staying, MJ, I’ll be sure to have chocolate chip pancakes on the table by morning.”

“Thanks, May,” she responds, and her cheeks hurt slightly from the smile that breaks out across her face.

“Yeah, thanks, May,” Peter echoes with a small laugh, stepping forward to give her a quick hug. “Love you. Sleep well.”

“Love you.” She ruffles his hair, giving him a gentle grin, and then her gaze shifts over to Michelle, the same expression still lingering. “Love you as well.”

“Love you, May,” she whispers, her voice softened and barely audible by the time May’s almost out of the door, but she knows she’s heard it, if only for the fact that there’s an added bounce to her step.

Peter walks over to the TV and grabs the remote before glancing back at Michelle, cracking an easy grin. “You pick a movie?”

“Oh, what the hell. Just put on Star Wars, I know you’ve been dying for a rewatch,” Michelle responds, waving it off despite knowing she’ll fall asleep within the first half-hour. 

“You’re really something else, Em,” he comments, something akin to awe in his voice that makes her feel squirmy, but he doesn’t pick Star Wars. He chooses one of her favourite films instead, the Black Dahlia remake based on the book. They’ve only watched it six or seven times together.

Michelle tucks herself in on the left side of his bed, Peter beside her, and if she happens to fall asleep anyway after the hour mark hits with her head on his shoulder and his fingers in her hair, neither of them say a word about it.

  
  


* * *

  


Michelle watches the ground drop beneath his feet, her stomach with it even though she’s not physically there herself. The city is beautiful at night but she’d be lying if she said she’d rather be out there with him right now than in the comfort of his bedroom. He swings his way through Queens using a type of webbing he’d crafted himself during their chemistry class, swerving past buildings, cars, and pedestrians, who will occasionally throw out an obscenity at his recklessness.

“Do you ever regret not going off with Peter when we were on that field trip? Just imagine,” Ned says, resting his cheek against his knuckles as they share the desk where his computer is set up, the video linked to the camera he’d helped program into Peter’s suit just for this very purpose. “We could be out there with him, like as a team.”

“What, like the Spider Squad?” she deadpans, and he laughs out loud.

“I mean, I doubt anyone would take us seriously, but yeah.” Ned hesitates as the two of them hear the way Peter whoops through the comms, not paying them any mind. “I just...I don’t know. It would make me feel better, I think...knowing he’s not out there, doing all of this alone.”

“You and me both, Leeds.” Michelle gnaws the inside of her cheek, knowing that every time their friend goes out like this, there’s a pit of worry that grows in her stomach. She’s aware that he helps with neighbourhood crime, that there’s never been anything terribly dangerous he’s had to deal with yet, but one day, there might be. “But he’s not doing this alone. Granted, we’re in the safety of his bedroom, but we’re still here...watching out for him.”

“Hell yeah, we are. You hear that, Peter?” Ned says, speaking directly into the microphone, and he laughs in response.

“I hear that loud and clear. You know I love you guys.”

“You should,” she sniffs, unable to help the smile creeping onto her face, the warmth spreading across her cheeks. They continue to watch the video feed in silence, Ned fiddling with a Rubik’s cube on the side to entertain himself while she keeps her eyes on the screen.

So far, Peter has helped catch a bicycle thief, put a halt to an almost-robbery, and he did stop a bus with his bare hands, preventing a crash, which was impressive but not enough for Michelle to say so out loud. Sure, his arms are nice and the muscles don’t exactly detract from the reasons she likes him so much - but she’s never going to say that out loud. What if someone heard her?

“Slow night,” he comments after saving a cat from a tree, swinging to the ground and kicking a pebble down the sidewalk.

“Slow night? Slow night, my ass,” Michelle mutters into the mic, blowing out a tired breath. “It’s almost ten o’clock, Peter. Maybe you should just come back early—I think Ned’s about to set a new record with this Rubik’s cube and you don’t want to miss it.”

“Oh, shit. Sounds epic.” He hesitates, though, and she already knows what he’s about to say. “Five more minutes and then I’ll be home. Should I stop at the bakery? I think they’re making those beignets that you really like. I could bring you back some.”

“How sweet,” she drawls, not saying yes or no, but he clearly takes it as a yes, starting his walk towards the small local bakery at the corner of 88th and 168th. She rolls her eyes at the gesture despite the smile it brings to her face.

A few moments pass and Michelle can feel herself starting to zone out as she continues to stare blankly at the screen, the darkness making it hard to see much of anything before she makes a move to stand up. She tells them both she’ll be right back, that she just needs to get some water.

May is in the kitchen downstairs, unaware that Peter isn’t home, and it makes a ball of guilt curl in Michelle’s stomach. She hates lying to her, and she wouldn’t do it at all if it were her choice, but he thinks that May wouldn’t let him go out like this if she knew the truth, so she hasn’t said a word. It’s simply an omission, and she tells herself that it’s not as bad as lying straight to her face.

Michelle’s in the middle of pouring herself a glass of water, lightly conversing with May about the prospect of volunteering at FEAST together, when she hears Ned call her name from the bedroom, loud and clear. He sounds panicked.

“What was that? Ned?” May asks, frowning, and she’s already making a move towards the stairs. “What’s going on?” 

“Ned told me he was going to try to fix my phone because I, uh, dropped it in the sink the other day. He probably  _ broke _ it,” Michelle quickly excuses with a tight smile, and yeah, now she’s lying straight to her face. It doesn’t make her feel good. “Um, I’m just going to…”

Michelle heads up the stairs quickly, finding Ned furiously typing something into the keyboard. She closes the door behind her and asks what happened once, twice, but it’s not until the third time she asks that he finally answers her.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, I just—he was swinging towards the bakery and then I heard someone yelling. It looked like something tackled him, but I don’t—I’m not sure what because the comms cut off and video feed went black.”

“They cut off? Peter,” she tries, tapping the mic but all she gets is silence from his end. Her heart drops. “You didn’t see anything else?”

“I didn’t. I’m going to keep trying to get into contact, maybe rewire the connection to his phone.” Ned types something into his own, and she stands there, feeling relatively useless for at least a minute, before grabbing her shoes by the door. He looks up at her, confused. “MJ, where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” Michelle shoves her arms through the sleeves of a jacket—doesn’t know whose it is, but she frankly doesn’t care. “We know where he was, so if something happened to him, we’ll be able to find him pretty easily. I hope so, at least.”

Ned nods, making a move to stand up. “Okay, well, I’m coming with you—”

“No, I think one of us should stay here in case he comes back. Besides, if you’re able to reach him through your phone, you can call me, and I’ll come home.” She swallows thickly. “I just want to make sure he’s not, like, unconscious out there while we’re just sitting around and waiting for him to return.”

“That makes sense...but be careful, please. And take this with you.” He tosses her a can of pepper spray, pauses, and then hands over a pair of scissors as well. She raises an eyebrow at him, and he holds his hands up. “You never know. Self-defence.”

“Okay. Thanks. I, uh—I won’t be long. If he’s not there, I’ll just assume he’s come home already.” She gives him a small smile that’s just short of reassuring before heading out, shoving her hands in the pockets of the coat, gripping the pepper spray.

The streets are relatively well-lit around their neighbourhood, but Michelle knows that she has to go out and around the block to get to the bakery. It would take about fifteen minutes to get there if she walks, so she runs. She’ll be truly mad if Peter is lying in a ditch  _ and  _ she had to run outside of gym class. 

By the time Michelle gets there, there’s no one around—that much is obvious. But on the bright side, it doesn’t seem like there’s any blood on the ground either, so she can stop assuming the worst.

The bakery closes around eleven on weeknights, but the lights seem to have gone off early. She squints a bit, peering inside. It’s empty. There’s no sign that Peter could’ve been there at all.

She shoots Ned a brief text, figuring that Peter just swung himself home after whatever happened, so she starts heading back that direction herself. The air is getting chillier, but she doesn’t regret coming out because at least she knows now.

It’s about seven minutes into her walk back when Michelle hears something, but it’s too quiet for her to decipher what it is. She speeds up a little, keeping her head straight, knowing that looking down will result in nothing good.

“Hey! MJ?”

Michelle slows to a stop and turns around, her heart pounding in her chest. “What the  _ hell _ , Peter? Have you just been roaming around like nothing happened? The comms shut off on us and the camera—we had no idea—”

“I’m sorry. I, uh...I ran into a few technical issues, that’s all,” he explains, stepping forward a bit with a smile on his face, his hands up, and she narrows her eyes. “Don’t be mad.”

“Where’s your suit?”

“What?”

Michelle scoffs in disbelief, and she wonders if he really did hit his head. She doesn’t know why he would’ve taken it off unless something happened, so she approaches him, cupping his jaw firmly to look for any injuries. But no, he seems perfectly fine.

“Unbelievable. You said you were going to the bakery? It wasn’t even open, for fuck’s sake. Ned and I, we were—” She blows out a sharp breath, gauging the way his eyes zero in on her hands shoved in her pockets. “We were worried.”

“I said I’m sorry. Come on, let’s just...let’s take a walk. Maybe it’ll help you cool down a little,” he suggests, placing a palm at the small of her back, urging her forward. She bristles, pulling away from him, but he firmly grips her wrist. “Please. I’ll get you the muffins or whatever you wanted from the bakery tomorrow, I promise.”

Michelle suddenly feels an uneasiness as she stares at him, and she shakes his grip off. She doesn’t know how to explain it, but as much as he looks like Peter, he sure doesn’t act like it. “I’m good. You know what. I’ll just...see you some other time.”

“You’re kidding.”

Her phone buzzes in her back pocket. She pulls it out, finds that it’s a text from Ned, letting her know that she can come back. He’s home. He’s safe, albeit a little banged up. She swallows, looking back at the person in front of her.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Yes, MJ?” he answers, impatient, and she suddenly feels so stupid for thinking that whoever this was could ever be her best friend. Not even close. She shakes her head, angry, before pulling out the spray and squirting it in his eyes. “You fucking—”

Michelle is about to turn around, probably run if she needs to, but then out of nowhere, she sees the spot of red and blue swinging closer, closer, closer, before finally slamming straight into the guy in front of her. She takes a step back, alarmed, Peter tangled up with someone who looks like him. His fist makes contact with the guy’s face—his face—and that’s when she sees the blood spill.

“Peter, stop,” she quickly says, firm, and he heaves out a heavy sigh, hand running over his mask. The man, whoever it is, doesn’t quite look like him anymore, and he’s sitting unconscious now on the ground. “What—”

“Let’s just—let’s get you home. The police will take care of him.” He doesn’t give her room to argue, so Michelle presses her lips together and lets him pull her into his arms. She’s never swung before, and she quite frankly never will again after this experience.

Peter clambers in through her open window, and it’s clear he’s about to deposit her in bed, but she drops to her feet instead. She immediately pulls his mask off, revealing his eyes, red-rimmed and worried.

“What was that?” she asks slowly, his gaze not leaving hers.

“Some—some guy who can change his face, or whatever the fuck. He ambushed me outside of the, uh, the bakery and broke my suit a little bit, but I thought I webbed him up. Guess not,” he responds, voice cracking. “Why were you out there?”

Michelle’s jaw tenses and she pushes a tired hand through her hair, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I was looking for you. I wanted to make sure you weren’t bleeding out, unconscious or something.”

“God, MJ—”

“Nothing happened.”

“Something could’ve happened! You don’t know where he would’ve taken you! You don’t know…” He trails off, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Did you even know it wasn’t me?”

“Of course I fucking knew, Peter. I wasn’t going to go with him,” Michelle tells him, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t look convinced. He rubs his lips together, crossing his arms, and he glances towards her window. They can see Ned from across the way in Peter’s bedroom waiting.

“I, uh, I should go back over and let Ned know what happened.”

“Peter,” she sighs, massaging her temple as she feels an oncoming headache, but she doesn’t think leaving it like this is a good idea either. “Look, it’s not a big deal. It was a coincidence that I ran into that guy, honestly, so don’t—”

“He knew your name, Michelle. I didn’t think of the consequences of doing this, of involving you. I didn’t, I—” He cuts himself off, swallowing thickly, and doesn’t meet her eyes again. “I’m going to let you get some rest.”

“Peter,” Michelle repeats, serious and imploring, but he shakes his head and presses a brief but firm kiss to her temple.

And then he’s gone, the curtains left fluttering in his wake.

  
  


* * *

  


Michelle does not overthink the kiss. She does not overthink the way his eyebrows were tight in a way she hasn’t seen before. She does not overthink how scared he seemed. She’s definitely not mulling it over when he swings back into her bedroom thirty minutes later. 

“MJ - “ he starts before his feet have even hit the ground.

“Welcome back.” She remarks with a theatrical swing of her arms. She knows he’s aware he can drop by anytime but she’s hoping joking with him will take that look of his face. Instead, he starts pacing.

“Listen. I’ve been over this with Ned and I think it’s for the best.” He speaks so fast if she hadn’t been used to his rambling she’d have no idea what he was saying. Luckily for him, she’s his best friend so she can decipher his nonsense. 

“You have an idea? What, how to figure out where that guy came from? If there are more of them?” Michelle fires questions at him knowing he’ll only answer one. He comes to a stop next to her bed and looks at her like the world is ending. Like someone asked him to choose between The Empire Strikes Back and The Phantom Menace. Like his heart is breaking.

“We need to break up.”  _ What? _ Her face flushes and she’s grateful for the umpteenth time that her darker complexion helps hide her burning cheeks from him. He can’t know how she feels? She’s been careful - only letting her gaze linger when she knows he’s occupied. Making it very clear she’s not bothered by his muscles whenever she has to stitch him up. Sure, Ned might be aware of the fact she’s been in love with him for years but she’s like 67% sure he wouldn’t say anything.

She must look mortified and or confused because he continues, “Friends, obviously. We're not - you’re not my - I never -” he shakes his head, takes a deep breath and repeats, “We need to stop being friends.”

“You can’t be serious, Peter?” MJ scoffs as he takes his place on her bed. What he’s asking, or demanding she do is ridiculous. They’ve been best friends for so long even if she only started admitting it freshman year. Her earliest memories centre around his stupid face and his fluffy hair - what he’s asking of her is cruel and unnecessary and she won’t allow it. 

“Em -” he starts, swallowing thickly, eyes darting around her room looking at anything but her. “You’re my - you’re -” she watches him swallow again and her heart constricts in her chest. She’s furious that he would even think about this - that the thought of cutting her out of his life doesn’t make him want to curl into a ball - like it does if she dares to think about her life without him. 

“I almost lost you. And for what?” He whispers looking at his hands. 

She wants to scream that he’d never lose her. That she’s his for as long as they’re alive. That she wishes she dared to just  _ tell  _ him what she’s been sure of since she was 13. It sounds stupid and melodramatic sure, but she’s known Peter was it for her since he ran all the way to the library and back, using almost all of his inhaler because it was her first birthday without either of her parents and she needed to read _ Harry Potter  _ to calm down. 

“But you didn’t. I’m right here. I’m  _ fine _ .”

“You’re not fine, MJ!” He shouts and the ferocity in his voice makes her flinch. “You could have been kidnapped! You could have been killed, fuck, Michelle-” the use of her full name shocks her and a lump in her throat appears as if from nowhere because he might be serious, he might have thought this through, “- anything could have happened to you.” 

“But it  _ didn’t _ .”

“Em, please.”

“No, Peter. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to just decide that we aren’t going to be friends anymore. You need me. I need you. We do this together, we survive this together. That’s been our plan since day one.” 

“That was back when nothing mattered, MJ. When the worst thing that could happen was I‘d fail my literature test -”

“Well, you didn’t fail your literature test because I helped you not to fail it.” Michelle quips back as she rolls her eyes attempting to loosen some of the ache.

“Michelle. You could have died and there would have been nothing I could do. And the only reason you were ever in that position in the first place is because you were looking for me.” He says sadly. 

“Okay, let’s pretend this whole bullshit plan of yours is going to work out. I take Ned, and then what? You’re gonna hang out with Flash?” 

“What, no, Ned’s with me.”

“Why on earth would you get Ned?” Michelle asks threateningly. “Does Ned somehow get away with not being cut from your life?”

“He didn’t get tricked by a fake me, Michelle.”

“Yet. He didn’t get tricked, yet. He signed up for this, I signed up for this! You agreed at the start.” 

“I can’t - I could barely breathe when I knew you were in danger. All of these superhuman abilities that are so amazing? Didn’t matter! They didn’t matter because I couldn’t focus on anything but you. Whether you were scared. Whether you were hurt. Whether you were  _ alive _ .” 

Maybe at another time, his words would stir something in her, they’d make her think that all her feelings weren’t one-sided. Maybe he liked her more than a friend as well. But the emotions whirling in her head can’t let her think about anything other than getting out of this situation. 

“I get Ned. If you want to do this, I get Ned,” she says somewhat childishly, but she can’t bring herself to care right now.

“Ned was friends with me first,” Peter responds with a small pout that would usually set her heart on fire.

“No, Pete. I was friends with you first. Me. Me who told you from the get-go that I didn’t make friends. Me who told you to get lost because I don’t get attached to people because it hurts so much when they leave.” She starts and the tears fall from her eyes so quickly she can’t bat them away fast enough. 

“Me, Peter. Me who stitches you up at four am because you don’t want to scare May. Me who told you how much it killed me when my dad left. Me who tells you everything, absolutely everything.” She whispers and goes to sit in her space next to him on her bed.

“So you know -” she takes his hand in hers, “- you know what this will do to me if you leave. You know I’ll never forgive you.”

“Em -” he gasps out and she thinks this might be it, the turning point - he’s never been good with tears. He squeezes her hand in his and she dares to think this might turn out okay, that she might be able to joke with him about how he tried to cut her off. 

“I -”

“You don’t just get to decide whether or not we are friends,” Michelle says looking at the duvet her and Peter spend Friday nights wrapped up in. “We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, how can you even think about cutting me out?” She says attempting to keep her voice calm and level.

“I don’t have a choice, MJ. I won’t lose you.”

“How is this not losing me?! What do you just want me to ignore you if I see you in school? You want me to pretend that I can’t hear your music through my bedroom wall? What do you  _ want _ , Peter? Because none of this makes any fucking sense to me.”

“I don’t want this!” He shouts, his voice reaching a level she’s never heard directed at her before. “I didn’t realize that what I do, would ever - ever touch you or Ned. I thought you would be safe on the sidelines, but look what happened! I never wanted this, and if I knew this was a possibility, I never would have told you.” Tears are streaming down his face and she hasn’t seen him this distraught before and if her heart weren’t in the process of breaking she might be glad he at least finds this difficult. “But when it was just us, you and me, I told you about my powers before anyone. What was I supposed to do, just lie to you for the rest of my life?”

“If it meant I didn’t have to spend the next God knows how many months pretending not to see you in the hallway, then yeah, Peter! You should have fucking lied.” She argues back and she can barely see him through the tears, she hates fighting with him and, God, she can’t deal with how sad she’s going to be if he tries to follow through with this. 

“Pete.” She says quietly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “You’re my best friend. I can’t - I don’t want to do this without you. Please, don’t make me beg.” 

“You’ll always be my best friend, MJ -” he starts, hands coming to her face to uselessly wipe the tears away but she leans her face into his palm anyway, “-but the world deserves you more than I do.” 

In the end, it doesn’t matter what she said, his mind was made up. She should have known, he’s the most stubborn person she knows - she just never thought he’d use that against her - as a reason to cut her out of his life. She knows this is his misguided attempt to protect her. She knows he’s trying to keep her safe, keep her alive like he feels he couldn’t with Ben but fuck does it hurt. 

She cries herself to sleep wrapped in her blanket that still smells like him. If she hears him turn his comfort film _ Legally Blonde  _ on, she ignores it. She desperately tries to think of anything that doesn’t make her think of Peter - but he’s so intertwined with her life that she can barely imagine walking in the park without thinking of all the puns he’ll say. She can barely look at her own hands without feeling the weight of his palms in hers whenever he convinced her they needed to hold hands so they didn’t get lost. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter how much she loved him. He left anyway. 

  
  


* * *

  


The lunch bell rings and MJ barely remembers what happened that morning. She can barely recall the past month. She knows she needs to hand her Physics homework in. She knows she has AcaDec practice after school. She knows she has a sandwich in her bag for lunch. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to sit at the other end of the lunch table again and pretend that her best friends aren’t right there. That she can’t feel Peter’s eyes on her while she reads her book. Like she can’t hear Ned telling him to just talk to her.

It’s been a little over three weeks since Peter demanded they weren’t to be friends anymore and it’s been hideous. She spent the entire evening with him trying to figure out how to get around this - but he was determined and she had some pride, so she stopped arguing her case. He left pressing a kiss to her temple—the audacity—and he hadn’t spoken to her since.

Ned tried to split his time between them both when she first sat down at the end of the table but she figured it was easier to ignore both of them. Ned spent most of his time trying to slyly ask her questions she knew came from Peter but he doesn’t deserve to know anything about her - not anymore. 

It’s cruel and it’s unkind for him to act like he’s bothered, to act like he’s hurting as much as she is - when it’s his stupidity that has them in this mess.

It hurts when she sits at the lunch table eating a cheese and pickle sandwich that she only half likes but it used to be okay because Peter would eat half and then he’d split his pasta with her. It hurts when they’re paired together in biology because of course, they are and they don’t talk because they’re both smart enough to ace this practical on their own anyway. It hurts when she wakes up from a nightmare and she has no one to talk to because Peter was always either here with her or he’d hear her through the walls and sneak into her room to coax her back to sleep. It hurts when she’s trying to calm her breathing after being woken up reliving her father leaving and she hears the sound of Etta James coming through her walls because he knows it calms her down.

She hates that it helps. She really, truly hates him. 

And she hates that she still loves him. That if he tried she’d have him back in a heartbeat. 

She walks into the cafeteria and quickly glances up at Peter, annoyed that she hasn’t managed to kick that habit yet - but her brows furrow when she sees shim glaring at someone. Following his eye line, she rolls her eyes when she lands on Brad Davis sitting in her seat. There’s nothing wrong with Brad per se. She has no issues talking to him in class or at AcaDec practice but the guy cannot take a hint! He’s asked her out numerous times now and she’s turned him down each time - once Ned and Peter did it for her. Her heart thumps miserably at the image. 

“Brad.” She says with a tight-lipped smile as she sits opposite him. 

“Hey, MJ!” He replies as though he’s completely unaware of anything other than himself. “I thought I’d come and have lunch with you because -”

“Brad.” She says, shooting him a glare even he’d be hard-pressed to miss. She can feel Peter’s eyes on them. Four weeks ago she would have been pleading for her heart to stop beating so fast as she tries to figure out why his eyebrows are furrowed in the way she likes so much. Why his lips are forming a not so subtle pout. Today, she’s just annoyed about it. 

Brad holds his hands up, smiles wide, “Sorry, Cap. So can I sit here?” He asks and she assumes his eyes are supposed to be pleading but they have no effect on her whatsoever. She’s not a pushover. Michelle can resist almost anything. Just not a certain set of puppy dog eyes from someone she desperately tries not to think about - doesn’t matter anymore though - she hasn’t seen his eyes for more than a passing glance for weeks. 

“Free country.” She states sourly while pulling a book out and making it known she’s not up to talk. In Brad’s defence, he does pull out his phone and just sits there with her. Michelle feels a bit bad that she was so off with him - but she hates the feeling that just having someone close is doing to her. MJ isn’t disliked - feared maybe, but not disliked. But she never felt like she fit in with anyone as well as she did with Peter and Ned. Like she could tell them anything and they’d be there for her. Or they’d call her out on her bullshit. Or they’d just listen when she needed them too. 

“Just ask her -” she hears Ned whisper from a few spaces down. She doesn’t look over to him. She doesn’t care what he wants to ask her. 

“Ned, quit it.” 

“Peter, you need her help - just suck it up.”

“I don’t  _ need  _ her, Ned.” And, fuck, that hurt more than she was anticipating. 

“What I need -” she starts, speaking directly to them for the first time in weeks, “-is for people to not talk about me as if I’m not right here. You don’t need me, Peter?” She asks, swallowing around the lump in her throat and willing the tears not to fall, he looks like she feels - heartbroken and lonely “I know that. You made that perfectly clear - but that also means you need to keep my name out of your fucking mouth.” She seethes while standing and grabbing her backpack to bolt from the cafeteria. 

Michelle spends the rest of the day wondering what it is that Ned thinks Peter needs her help with. Is it school-related? Because if so, fuck him, she hopes he fails. Spider-Man related? She could probably help him without talking or looking at him, right? A few days after they stopped talking, Spider-Man took a nasty hit and she could barely sleep without thinking about him. So if she dropped a care package with bandages and snacks around to leave while he was out, May doesn’t call her out on it.

She never does find out what they were talking about. After a couple of days, she stops thinking about it. After a couple of weeks, her new Friday routine of helping at FEAST kicks in and she stops thinking about film nights. After a couple of months, she stops thinking about Peter.   
  


* * *

  


“Are you excited?” Betty asks her as she sits in the seat next to her. Usually, Michelle would glare at someone until they moved but she likes Betty. She thinks Betty likes Ned, and despite having not spoken to him in months - she thinks they’d suit and she dampens the jealousy that threatens to spill out her throat if she thinks about her being invited to movie night. 

“Yeah. I’ve been a few times but there’s a new exhibit that I want to check out.” Michelle replies using her finger to mark her place in her book. She hasn’t branched out to find new friends since her last friendship took a nosedive but she feels like maybe she could hang out with Betty - like in school or whatever. 

“Cool - I’ll come with you? I know you like to sketch things and I like to take notes for my column.” Betty asks with a smile. Michelle smiles back. Maybe today would be a good day.

The good feeling lasts for the entirety of the bus trip. Betty asking her questions but also allowing her to get to the end of her chapter before they get to MoMa. It lasts through the entrance and when she answers Betty’s not so casual questions about Ned. It lasts when Brad comes and asks her to take a photo of him - and she feels Peter staring at her from across the room. 

It lasts until there are screams from beyond the museum doors. It lasts until she takes her phone out to see that there is another alien invasion in the middle of Manhattan.

As quick as the fear that something is happening to New York enters her mind, it leaves. Because if there is a threat this big, that means someone needs to stop it. This seems like an Avengers type affair which means he’s going to go.

They didn’t tell her directly, but she’s observant. Even if she doesn’t want to know, doesn’t care to know, she found out that Peter has started training during his free time with the Avengers a few months back. They picked him up off the streets, labeled him as a vigilante, but at least he’s getting experience. At least he’s surrounded by people who can teach him what it means to be a superhero and still have loved ones in your life. He could use a lesson or two.

But whatever is happening now leads her to believe he’s going to go running headfirst into life-threatening danger and sure she knows he risks his life regularly but this feels like something else. Something that he might not come back from.

So she runs. 

Pushing past people who are trying to get a better look at the ship, she tries to look everywhere for the curly head of hair she’s been trying to avoid since she got here. Or for the mop of black hair that she’s equally been hiding from. 

“Move -” she shoves past a gaggle of students, throwing a “-sorry!” behind her. She can apologise properly later, nothing’s going to matter if he leaves without her talking to him. Would he? Would he go without speaking to her first? As she runs through the hallway she thinks about how they have only spoken when he’s answering AcaDec questions and she thinks he might be completely over her. 

Sure, she can lie to everyone and herself when she says she’s over it. When she says she doesn’t think of him unless it’s to be annoyed he didn’t do his research for their partnered project. When she says she doesn’t sleep better when she knows he’s at home and not out being Spider-Man. When she tells her Aunt Anna that she thinks Peter asked someone on a date at the weekend. When she says it doesn’t bother her if he gets a girlfriend. When she says doesn’t care.

But truth be told, she thinks about him all the time. She thinks about him when she has to complete her chemistry homework and she forgets to go past the halfway point because they always did half each. She thinks about him when she orders pizza and forgets to order plain cheese and ends up with half a pizza full of ham that she won’t eat. She thinks about him when she goes grocery shopping and she waits for him to try and throw annoying items into her cart. 

She thinks about him all the time. 

“Ned!” She shouts when she sees him standing outside the men’s toilets when she turns a corner. 

“MJ.” He replies as if he’s terrified. He should be, there’s an alien spaceship hovering over Manhattan but she knows that’s not what he’s worried about.

“Where is he?” 

“Er -”

“Ned. Where is he?” And her heart sinks when he points to the front of the museum. He left. He’s already gone. She runs anyway. 

“Michelle!” Ned shouts after her but it’s useless. Peter Parker doesn’t get to just leave. She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t tell him. If she didn’t say goodbye. She’d never forgive herself if he died and they hadn’t spoken in months. She’d never forgive him either. 

So she runs, and she pushes past the security guards trying to keep everyone inside. Outside is already carnage, it’s already her worst nightmare because he’s going to fight whatever is causing this mess. And it wouldn’t matter if she had a speech lined up about how he could just stay there with her. How she could keep him safe if he just stayed with her because he’d leave anyway. And she would never ask him that. 

Her hand flies to her mouth as a sob falls from her mouth. He’s gone. 

It doesn’t matter that they haven’t spoken in months. He’s gone anyway. 

But then something moves in her peripheral vision and she’d recognise him anywhere. Suit or no suit - she’d know Peter Parker. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and watches as he swings from the top of the building and onto a lampost. He’s going headfirst into battle without a second thought and she’s so proud of him. The pride almost makes the ache in her chest worth it. 

The world needs to be saved and it’s chosen him. What a privilege it is to know him. And then she thinks about how he may not make it back, how he’s never guaranteed to return - what an injustice. 

As she watches him go to swing away, he glances down at her and the eyes on his mask widen so much she can see it from all the way down here. He jumps down and runs over to her. She was so sure she had to see him before he left - even though they haven’t spoken in months. And now he’s here and she can’t find the words. What can she say to her best friend who’s about to go and fight aliens? Who’s about to go to battle alongside the Avengers in a suit she helped him design. 

He seemingly has nothing to say either, so she does what she can - she grabs his hand and he links their fingers. There’s a second when she thinks she should hug him, but that seems like too much, all he needs right now is a friend and that’s what she is. There’s a loud bang and they both know he needs to go. She squeezes his hand and gives him a tight smile. He presses his lips behind his mask to her temple and gently squeezes her hand and that’s all she can ask for. Even if they never speak again, he just needs to make it back. She nods her head and turns to walk back inside - she doesn’t look back. She can’t watch him swing into danger. She can’t watch him leave.

As she opens the doors she hears a security guard accosting her for leaving but she doesn’t care, because she’s wrapped in a hug by Ned Leeds and despite everything going on, it’s the safest she’s felt in months. 

Unsurprisingly the threat of an alien invasion gets them sent home early. Ned spends the forty minutes it takes for his mum to pick him up, filling MJ in on everything she’s missed over the past few months. The in-depth recounting of his life is littered with apologies and murmured ‘love you’s and she’s never been very good at holding a grudge against him anyway. 

“I’m really sorry, MJ. I tried to convince him it was stupid but I’ve never seen him so angry. He’s terrified of losing you.” He says as they sit on the steps patiently as people run around screaming. 

“You didn’t get kicked out.” She replies, not meaning to be petty considering she can see smoke from miles away.

“It’s not the same - not for him.” 

“That makes no sense.”

“MJ -” he responds with a look she knows well, despite not being on the receiving end of it in a while. “Come on, you know it’s different with you.”

“It’s still stupid.” She says, heart, thumping in her chest.

“I know and I’m really sorry.” 

She believes him and turns the conversation to something light-hearted - something to distract them both from the fact there’s another ‘once in a lifetime’ event occurring on their doorstep. Something to distract them both from the fact their best friend is fighting the terrors they can’t see. 

“So, do you like Betty?” It has the desired effect and he splutters for defence while they wait for their lifts home. 

MJ ends up at May’s for the first time in months three days later because Anna is stuck at work and apparently the impending doom isn’t enough to let people off early. It’s comforting being around May, she’s missed her - probably more than she missed either of the boys and she thinks May missed her too. 

“It’s not been the same without you,” May says as she places a second cup of tea in front of MJ, and she thinks if there’s anything good that came out of Peter pushing her away, it’s the fact that he at least told his aunt the truth. Or she found out on her own—either way. “I tried to talk Peter out of whatever silly thing he was trying to do, but love makes that boy go crazy.” Michelle blushes in a way she knows May picks up on and swallows a burning sip of tea to avoid asking her what she means by  _ love _ . 

“It was only a matter of time before he broke anyway - he was getting infuriating without you. May -” she starts in a perfect rendition of Peter’s voice, “- I miss MJ. May, Brad keeps sitting next to Michelle. May, how do I get MJ to go to prom with me if she’s mad that I was an idiot and tried to cut her out my life.” 

“Prom is a ridiculous, unnecessary dance,” Michelle replies, looking down at her mug because she’s been desperate to go with Peter since she was fourteen. She’s been dying to hear about him and whether he misses her as much as she misses him.

“I know, sweetie. Anna and I are still going to go dress shopping in a few weeks if you wanted to come.” May answers knowingly. 

“Sure, whatever,” Michelle replies, a fullness in her chest that she tried to forget she missed. 

They spend the next few hours waiting for Anna, talking about everything and nothing. Discussing how it was bullshit for Trish to go home in last week's America’s Top Model. Telling each other about how worried they are that Peter is going to get hurt. Laughing over the latest Spider-Man headlines in the Daily Bugle. 

Michelle even lets May show her a few prom dresses online and only rolls her eyes at the first one - they settle on the colour red. 

  
  


* * *

  


The first thing she hears is glass shattering. The second thing she hears is screaming. The third thing she hears is the sound of May’s voice, the familiar feeling of her touch on her forearm.

Michelle doesn’t remember where she is when she falls, but she lands on the ground with a resounding thud. Somehow, she feels sore all over, like being put back together atom by atom wasn’t meant to be a painless process. She sits up on the hardwood, finding the lack of table and chairs that had once been in the Parkers’ kitchen.

“Oh, my god. If they’re back, does that mean…?” The unfamiliar hushed voice makes Michelle turn her head, and she startled at the sight of a man and a woman standing not too far away. “They must’ve brought everyone back.”

May places a hand on Michelle’s shoulder, and they help each other up. She vaguely remembers what they had been doing before her hand started disintegrating, before she could no longer speak, before it felt like she was dying until she no longer felt anything.

They were talking about things that feel relatively unimportant now when compared to everything that’s just happened—not that she’s sure what just happened. It feels like barely any time has passed at all, but they’re clearly in a house that's not the same as they’d left it.

“How—how long has it been?” Michelle asks, turning to the people standing a few feet from them. The man’s expression is kind yet pitiful.

“Five years.”

_ Five years of simply not existing. _

Michelle immediately turns to May, her eyes stinging as she blinks, and the older woman pulls her into her arms. She doesn’t cry, but her head hurts—everything hurts, but not in a physical way anymore. They hold each other, May smoothing her hair and whispering words she can’t quite decipher, but it feels unfair to break down on the woman who’s experiencing the same thing she is.

And then a realization hits her like a slap to the face. She takes a step back, frantically looking around, even though she knows what she’s looking for isn’t within those four walls.

“Not everyone—not everyone disappeared?” she asks, looking again at the man and woman who are simply watching them.

“Only half of the population,” the woman supplies but then tugs at the man’s sleeve. “I’m going to go look for her. If she’s back—god, if she’s back, we need to go. I’m sure the hospitals are full.”

“I’ll be right behind you, love.” He gives them one last look. “Do you two need anything else?”

“Where’s my kitchen table?” May asks, and her voice wobbles. Michelle knows it’s not the table she’s worried about, but the idea of what else could’ve changed while they were gone—what else they’ve lost.

“I’m sorry...you don’t own this house anymore. But if you’d like, we have a spare bedroom. You can stay here for as a long as you need,” he offers, but the idea of staying in your home that isn’t really your home—hasn’t been for five years—it doesn’t sound very appealing, and May must think so too.

“Do you at least...did you get rid of everything?” she continues, swallowing thickly, and the man shakes his head no. There are a few boxes in the spare bedroom full of items that used to belong to the Parkers. Michelle hears him mention something about a friend keeping some things for her, but she can’t think about anything other than the fact she was gone. Where’s Anna?

May takes the one with the photo albums and frames. She tells him she’ll be back for the rest within the week.

“I have to—I should go home...if it even is still my home,” Michelle speaks up quietly, and she nods. They both walk out the front door, only to find that it’s absolute chaos outside. She tries not to focus too hard on what’s happening, heading next door.

The familiar wreath covering the door knocker is still in place, which gives her a bit of hope when she rings the bell. It only takes a maximum of three seconds for the door to swing open, revealing her aunt—albeit five years older.

“Oh, Michelle,” Anna chokes out, a hand covering her mouth while her other arm brings her into a hug. “Michelle, god, you’ve been gone…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she utters, feeling the hotness of her tears drip down her skin, and she knows she shouldn’t apologize because none of this was up to her. But the idea of losing someone for five years without knowing if they’ll ever be back is something she thinks is worth the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’.

Anna turns to May, placing a hand over her heart, eyes still watering. “And May! Goodness, May, it’s been...it’s been a time.”

“I sure hope you haven’t had too much fun without me,” May says with a wry smile, and they exchange a tight hug. “I bet we have a lot to catch up on, huh.”

“Hell, if that ain’t the truth,” Anna responds with a quiet laugh. “MJ, honey, I think you’d better get inside and call your friend Ned. He’s been dusted as well, and I think hearing from you would be a great help.”

If anything, those words send a massive relief through her at the fact that Ned at least hasn’t been alone for the past five years, growing up, graduating, moving on without them. It could be selfish of her to say so—knowing that he had to go through everything she did as they were pulled apart at the seams—but she doesn’t think it is.

She’s on the phone within the minute, dialling his number as it’s still memorized by heart, and he picks up on the first ring.

“MJ, thank god,” he exhales, the emotion in his voice prominent. “I didn’t...I can’t believe what just happened. I mean—five years? That’s…”

“Fucking insane. I know.” She sits down on her bed, and maybe it’s a mistake as she’s now facing her window, the window she can see through right across the way to a room that no longer belongs to him. Not that he’s there to even realize it. “Ned, I’m just...god, I’m just so glad that…”

“Me, too, MJ,” he says quietly, and they feel it in the moment of silence. She blinks heavily, looking away from the window. “Me, too.”

They talk for a long time, over two hours, about the small trivial things because that’s what they need right now. Neither of them mentions the elephant in the room.

“It’s getting late. I should let you…” She trails off, knowing she should let him get to sleep but not wanting to hang up at the same time. He says what she’s thinking out loud.

They fall asleep that night with their phones still on call.

She sleeps for twelve hours straight, and it could be a new record if she didn’t joke about being asleep for five years. Her aunt didn’t find it very funny, but May did, so that was good at least.

“Do you think…” May trails off, and it’s just them sitting at the table. She doesn’t finish her thought, but she’s looking out the window. It’s not hard to guess.

“I hope so.” And that’s all she says about it for right now, knowing that if she allows herself to think, or overthink, for too long, she won’t be able to keep the regret of everything that’s happened in the past few months from building up, from bursting.

But Michelle has never had that much patience, so she’s thankful that she doesn’t have to wait that long. It’s around nine in the evening when she’s in the street, helping with the cleanup and going back and forth from there to FEAST, which is starting to become crowded. They’re doing what they can.

“Did you hear?” One of the neighbours from the other side says to Anna, who doesn’t seem to be paying half a mind. “I think it’s over.”

“What happened?” Michelle asks, approaching.

“The Avengers, they—they stopped him. Thanos. It’s done.” She shows her the news article, which does indeed say in big and red as the headline ‘Thanos defeated, Avengers touch back down on Earth’. She skims the part where it says they’ve returned with less people than they left with. She can’t bring herself to think about it.

Michelle sits on the step of her porch and drops her head, arms folded over her knee. She isn’t sure how long she can stand not knowing, but the more she thinks about it, the less she wants to know who managed to return and who didn’t. Anna brings her a cup of tea and asks if she wants to come inside.

“In a little bit.” She closes her eyes, and she lets it hurt, never being the more optimistic of the two. It’s almost ten when she hears her name.

“Michelle?”

Her eyes snap open, and it’s hard to see, but the porch light is on—enough for his silhouette to appear in her line of sight. She slowly stands up, her breath caught in her throat until it feels like it’s choking her.

He says her name again, and she walks out of the safety of the light illuminating from her home, nearly stumbling through the dark and right into his arms. His hold is tight, almost suffocating, but she can’t say she has anything to complain about right now.

“Peter,” she whispers, the air that was previously caught in her throat now escaping, giving her room to breathe as she relaxes just a bit. “Hi.”

“Hi, back,” he mumbles against her skin, and she wishes she could feel his. Her fingers fumble down his back looking for the hem of his shirt she knows doesn’t exist because he’s in his suit but she searches anyway. 

He presses a kiss to her temple, something she hadn’t had in days, or  _ years _ . The action is soft and still makes her heart feel too big for her chest. 

“Trying to undress me, Jones?” He asks while his fingers greedily bunch in her sweater. 

“Shut up, Parker.” She breathes against his neck, letting her lips linger against his pulse point. It helps ground her, helps to remind her that he’s here, that he’s safe. She leans her cheek on his shoulder and notices what she should have noticed with her hands running all over him.

“Your suit...the one we made.” It’s been replaced with a metallic form that's surely more protective, and she can’t lie and say she’s not glad he’d had something better than their little homemade project up there in space.

Peter doesn’t let her go, but he pulls back ever so slightly to look at her face. He seems tired but glad to be there. “I’m sorry that it’s gone.”

“That’s okay.” She places a hand on his cheek, and he leans into it. “We can make another. Though, I don’t know if it’ll beat this.” She continues, eyes flicking to the shiny red suit that covers his chest. 

“I wouldn’t say that, MJ,” he says without looking away from her, and she stifles a small smile, thinking back to when they’d made the suit together—made it with effort, love, and a lot of finger pricks.

“You’re right,” she says, heaving a sigh of relief because he’s alive - lame suit or not. He’s right here. He merely pulls her back in, Michelle hiding her tears in the crook of his neck, and they stand outside like that for a very long time—at least until the moon reaches its peak.

“May will want to see you,” Michelle finally says against his neck, not making any indication that she wants to move. 

“She - did she? Is she okay? Is everyone—?” Peter asks with the desperation she had felt as she waited to find out about Ned, about Anna. About him. 

“She snapped as well. And Ned too.”

“Oh. Okay.” He says with a deep breath. “Was our place still free then?” He asks threading his hand into the hair at the back of her neck.

“No. A new family moved in, but, um, we have room. Anna—” A sob takes her by surprise when she thinks about how her aunt was left alone for five years. 

“Okay, it’s okay.” Peter whispers into her hair, “Let’s go inside.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers as they walk up to the house in silence. She doesn’t know what to say, knowing that their fight should be the last thing on her mind - but the thought that he’s back and he might leave again has her swallowing down any and all questions. He seems content to just be next to her so she’ll take it. 

As she expected, May is equal parts thrilled to see him and equal parts scolding him for going to fight - even though they both know he would have gone anyway. MJ makes a round of tea as she leaves them to catch up - trying to block out whatever he’s saying although the words ‘space’ and ‘deaths’ burn their way into her mind. 

She reminds Peter where the shower is despite it really only being a few months since he’s been in her home - but she thinks he asks because he wants to be with her and she can’t deny that she wants that too. When it finally comes time to go to sleep, it’s so late that it’s practically daytime outside and she still finds herself arguing with May about who should sleep on the couch.

“MJ - you and Peter take your bed and I’ll be fine here. I slept on the couch just last night. If I get too uncomfortable, I can go to sleep with Anna.” May says, a finality to her voice that she can’t bring herself to argue against. Also, it’s possible her brain stopped working when she suggested Peter sleeps in her bed. They’ve done that before - they used to spend the night together all the time, but that was before.

Before the almost, possible kidnapping. Before the crippling deterioration of their friendship. Before they both died. 

“Oh, we don’t - if you don’t -” Peter starts stuttering out and it actually helps calm her down - bringing some normalcy back to her life. 

“Calm down, nerd. We can top and tail—just keep your feet out of my face.” She says, spinning before she can analyse the look on his face. He follows her. She’s thankful for the late hour because she’s not sure she’d be able to be this nonchalant if she wasn’t sleep deprived. 

“Do you want some sweats? Anna didn’t throw any of my stuff out, so they might smell a little bit musty.” Michelle couldn’t have been more grateful at that moment that her Aunt is the most sentimental person she knows. “I think she has a couple of boxes for you and May as well that we can find in the morning.” She continues throwing some joggers and a t-shirt at Peter. 

She turns to look at him when she realises he hasn’t said a word since they entered her room. It doesn’t look that different from how he would have last seen it - she did take down the photos of him and put them in a drawer - maybe that’s why his eyes are glassy. Maybe it’s the war. 

“Em -” he starts, and his voice sounds thick and watery with desperation - like he needs her. 

“Does something hurt?” she asks softly, and emotion flashes behind Peter’s eyes, his lips parting. He doesn’t make any move. The question feels bigger than she’d meant, but she doesn’t want to go into it now. That’s a conversation for another day. “Peter?”

“Yeah, no, I’m—I’m alright.” 

They change facing away from each other and her cheeks still burn that they’re both half-naked instead of just him for once in the same room. If she thought a few months away from him and a literal death experience were enough to make her fall out of love with him she was sorely mistaken. 

“What end do you want?” Michelle asks when she’s in her pajamas. 

“It’s your bed, Em.”

“You helped save the world today, loser, so you can choose.” She replies spinning to sit in the middle, when she looks at him he’s already looking at her. There’s something in his gaze that makes her chest feel thick, that makes her toes curl, that makes her hope. 

“This end.” He says with a smirk, pointing at the end with her pillows. She rolls her eyes at him but goes to move to the foot of the bed anyway.

“I helped save the world -”

“That’s what I just said.”

“So can I get something else?” He asks, and the puppy dog eyes are in full effect. As if she’d ever say no to him. He takes her hand in his, “I want you to be up this end too.”

“Dork,” Michelle replies, a tad breathless but she thinks she plays it off as she shimmies up the bed and gets under the covers. “Well?” She says when she’s tucked up to her chin - she spins onto her side to make room for him when he pulls the duvet back. 

“Is that my sweater?” He asks when they’ve spent a few minutes just looking at each other under the guise of getting comfortable.

“No.” Yes. 

“That’s not my ridiculously comfy sweater?” He says, and his eyes glint in the early morning light creeping past her blinds.

“Nope.” Yes. He grabs a fistful of the material and pulls her the few inches of space that they’d left each other until she’s flush against him. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers, and he’s so close. He lifts his free hand to her face, lightly tucking some hair behind her ear. 

“Maybe.” She whispers back. She shifts so their legs are interlocked, as her eyelids grow heavier and heavier. His hand stays against her neck, thumb rubbing lazily across her skin. Despite how bone-tired she is and how exhausted she knows Peter must be, there’s a lightness in the air. The feeling that tomorrow might be better. He lets go of the sweater she’s never returning and wraps his arm around her so they’re touching from head to toe. 

He’s home. She’s home. 

“I’m really glad you’re here, Pete.” She breathes, although she thinks he might already be asleep. 

“Not going anywhere.” He mumbles into her hair. And she allows herself to succumb to sleep, even if she doesn’t truly believe him. 

  
  


* * *

  


It’s almost noon when Michelle comes down the stairs to find May and Anna awake and serving coffee in their respective favorite flavors, matching mugs and biscuits on the plates. She takes note of the empty seats across from them with disappointment sagging in her chest, but maybe she shouldn’t have had such high expectations in the first place.

“Morning. Or, afternoon, I guess,” she greets, shuffling past them and into the kitchen, grabbing an egg from the fridge and cracking it in the skillet. She doesn’t like eggs, but the stores haven’t been open and they’re out of cereal.

“Did you sleep well?” Anna asks, swirling her coffee around in her cup, and Michelle shrugs her shoulder. She slept very well through the whole night, but when she woke up, she felt more restless than before she’d fallen asleep. Maybe it was because she’d woken up alone, but who’s to say.

“He’ll be back,” May supplies, as if she can read her thoughts, but it doesn’t reassure her if the forcefulness put behind closing the fridge door is any indication. “MJ.” May says again, a surety to her voice that MJ knows is supposed to help but only hurts.

“Okay,” she says simply, pressing her lips together as she watches the egg sizzle in the pan. There’s a sour feeling in her heart, and she wishes her gut instincts weren’t always right.

May wasn’t lying—the front door opens a few moments later and he walks through with a bag in his hand. She doesn’t look over at him, shaking the egg around in the skillet until it slips out and lands on the floor. 

“I see you’ve improved,” Peter comments with a hesitant smile as he approaches slowly, and she scoffs humorlessly, nodding.

“Don’t laugh.” Michelle picks the egg up and throws it away before opening up the fridge to grab another one. Except, now they’re out of eggs as well. “Okay. Well, we’re out. There’s nothing to eat. Love that.” She feels bad, Anna wasn't exactly expecting them to appear out of thin air yesterday - so it's not her fault she doesn't have enough food.

“Wait, I, um, I ran to the bakery real quick,” he quickly says, placing the bag on the counter and taking out a container of freshly made beignets. “I thought that maybe you’d want some for breakfast...they’re still your favorite, right?”

Michelle can’t help the frown that spreads across her face. “You...you left this morning...to go to the fucking bakery. Wow. Okay.” She doesn't mean to let her anger seep out in front of May and Anna but in her defence, it's been a stressful couple of months. Or years she guesses.

“I…” He trails off, face falling in confusion. “Did you not want that?”

“You should’ve woken me up,” she tells him, voice quiet.

Peter swallows thickly, his throat bobbing. He takes a tentative step closer, and she crosses her arms. It’s not the same atmosphere as it was last night when they were still wrapped up in the idea of being alive, being okay. Surviving a decimation, somehow. Just simply being together again. It’s colder this morning, but his voice softens anyway. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh, you did.” Michelle snaps her mouth shut, shaking her head, and if he can read her expression right now, he’s not saying anything to combat what she’s thinking. She stands there for a minute or two, and then she realizes she doesn’t feel hungry anymore. She shoots a small smile to Anna and May, the latter sending her a pleading glance.

“MJ?” he tries when she starts walking out of the kitchen, back up the stairs, and if she had faster reflexes, she’d shut the door in his face. Because, of course, he’s come after her. “MJ, what’s—”

“Can we not...do this right now?” she asks, because all she wants is for him to leave her alone, but he doesn’t take the hint. 

“I’m not even...what are we doing?”

“What are we doing? I don’t know, Peter, what  _ are _ we doing?” Michelle finally says, the muscles in her jaw tense. “What are  _ you _ doing, bringing me breakfast as if it’s the same as it was before we disintegrated into thin air?”

“I thought…” He swallows, finding a sudden interest in the carpet as if that’s easier than looking at her. “I’m trying to bring back some normalcy, that’s all.”

“Oh, well, if you’re trying to do that, then why don’t you go back to ignoring me,” Michelle deadpans, feeling a flash of anger, though she doubts it ever really left. She had only let him back in her house, her life, for one night, and she feels the effects of it today—a reminder of everything that’s happened thus far hitting her the second she’d woke up and seen that he wasn’t there. “I mean, you can’t be serious, Peter.”

“MJ, I don’t...what do you want me to say?” He meets her eyes, and she sees that his are glazed over. The audacity he has to cry makes her want to close up even further because this isn't on her. This isn't her fault—she's spent the last few months of her life trying to get over him, and now here he is with baked goods and a sad smile. “Because I have a lot to say, and if you want to do it now, then please. You first.”

“How nice of you.” She shakes her head, walks over to the window that’s open and shuts it, the loud sound reverberating through the room. “You know, you are just...you’re fucking unbelievable, Parker. You...left this morning without saying anything, and yeah, sure. Not a big deal. But I’m starting to think it’s a pattern, you know?”

“What is?” he asks, voice quiet, like he already knows the answer.

“You. Leaving.” Michelle turns around and faces him, sees the way his expression is cracked open, and she thinks  _ good _ . “You left me when things were getting rocky with Spider-Man. You left me when you went to go help the Avengers in space. You left me this morning when you promised you wouldn’t, and I’m just—I’m tired. You never give me a choice, and I’m so tired.”

“MJ, I am—I’m so sorry. I’m so…” Peter runs a hand over his face, and she can see the weariness, the regret. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve fucked up. I knew even before I said a goddamn word that night. I just—I was so scared. We were so new to this Spider-Man teamwork, and I...I was naïve to think that it wouldn’t affect you guys, but then you almost got hurt...I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We could’ve asked someone for help. We could’ve figured something out together, but you had to take the extreme route.” She closes her eyes, and they burn. "You just…god, Peter. You just left. Did you even think about leaving Ned?" And she knows she wouldn't want him to carry this burden alone—she's glad he didn't have to. But it's been months and she's been going over and over how he could just leave her.

"It's different." He whispers. "You—MJ, I can't even—the thought of you getting hurt or—or worse?" His voice gets stronger but not louder. "I don't know what I would do. I don't know how I would survive if you—if you weren’t here anymore. But it was selfish and missguided and I'm so…I'm so sorry, Em. I was just so scared."

“You think you’re the only one who’s scared? I’m scared, Peter. I’m scared that one day, you’re going to go out and just...not come back. Every time you come into my room, bleeding because someone fucking shot you, I want to ask you to stop, to hang up the suit, and to just...be safe. But I don’t because I know you need to do this, and I can’t be selfish about it.”

“You’ve always been the better one between the two of us,” he says with a soft, watery laugh, and he wipes his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, I know that. Ned even told me off. I just...the thought of losing you…”

“Welcome to my world.”

“I hate it so much,” Peter utters, and she blows out a small breath, nodding, because she couldn’t agree more. “But I promise...I won’t try to cut you out again. I’ll try not to be selfish, even though with you it’s—it’s so hard.”

Michelle gives him a wry smile and takes a step closer, tucking a curl behind her ear, his eyes tracking her movements. “Why is it so hard?”

“Because...because you’re my...you’re just…” He swallows, and he takes her hands, holding them close to his chest. Her heart is beating loud enough for them both to hear. “You’re MJ." He says as if that's enough information for her to go on, but he follows it up, "You’re MJ, and you're my best friend and I love...I love you. I've loved you for years."

"Years?" She asks, with her heart in her throat.

"Years, MJ."

“Like, you love me...as a friend?” Michelle asks halfheartedly, but her voice cracks because she isn’t so sure she believes that herself anymore. They’ve known each other for so long, and all this time, she’s been brushing off his actions, his looks, his touches as friendly, but god, which one of them is more blind. 

“I love you as my friend, and I love you as my family, and I just…” Peter’s gaze doesn’t falter, even if hers starts to. She feels so very warm, his palms still encompassing hers entirely. “I love you as my everything.”

“God, Peter, you’re so…” She trails off, her words catching in her throat as he continues looking at her with a small smile, as if it doesn’t matter whether she feels the same way or not. This is how he feels, and he wanted her to know.

“What am I?”

Michelle blinks, and her eyes sting but in a good way this time, a small laugh escaping her as she shakes her head, leaning forward. The moment that their lips touch, he finally lets go of her hands, wrapping his arms around her instead, and she thinks that it’s taken them long enough. 

Something in her settles as he holds her tight, and maybe she trusts him this time to not push her away, to not let her go.

“You’re...an idiot,” Michelle finally whispers when they pull apart, and he laughs, tucking a curl behind her ear, letting his hand slowly move down from her neck to her hands. His eyes shine with something that could be happiness. She thinks she’d know for sure if they did it again. “And I’ve really missed you.”

Peter smiles, soft and earnest, and he interlaces their fingers together again, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “I’ve really missed you, too.” 

She mirrors his expression, and after a few moments, they sit down on her bed, and they simply talk. They talk about everything they’ve missed, everything they’ve regretted, everything that’s happened since that night. She deserves to hear all of his stories, and he deserves to hear hers.

When the two of them fall silent, Michelle turns her gaze towards the window. She can see through to what used to be his bedroom, but the curtains are now closed off. It feels like an end.

“I’m sorry that your house…” She swallows, knowing how many memories they’d had there. They’ll be able to find them somewhere new, but it’s the idea that makes her sad.

“It’s okay. It’s just a house.” Peter presses his lips to her temple, a familiar action that he’s done countless times over, but now she knows it really does mean something. “I’ve got my home right here.”

Michelle releases a small laugh, and she looks out the window one more time. Maybe the curtains being closed does signify an end.

Or maybe it simply means they’ve found a new beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> if only you could see our outline
> 
> we’re on tumblr @coykoii and @i-lovethatforme <3


End file.
